


Communication Breakdown

by Mrstserc



Series: Before the Fall Verse [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drug Addiction, Gen, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrstserc/pseuds/Mrstserc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Withdrawal does not a pleasant fallen angel make. Negotiating conversational landmines may tax all three of the boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Communication Breakdown

__

_Communication Breakdown, It's always the same,_

_I'm having a nervous breakdown, Drive me insane!_

"Communication Breakdown" by Led Zeppelin

* * *

The Christmas tree at K.J.'s Travel Center in Idaho Falls is still trying to make the place look festive three days after the big day, but Castiel stands in front of it glaring. Dean, plastic basket full of travel munchies, isn't sure if he wants to know what has offended Cas this time.

The fallen angel was trying to overcome a recent addiction to trying to live a better life through pharmaceuticals. For the past few months, Castiel had managed to find several types of pills: painkillers, anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, and some kinds Dean's not really sure what they are. Quitting – or trying to - is making him, well, moody – and most of the moods were grumpy.

Cas catches Dean's eyes and motions with his head for Dean to join him. "What is that supposed to be on top of the tree?" Cas asks, mouth pursed and eyebrows raised, as though it was Dean's fault. Dean gives an audible sigh and shrugs his shoulder.

"Looks like an angel with a stick up his ass to me, Cas. So, could be almost any one of those dicks with wings I've ever met. 'Cept you, of course" Dean says, being polite, but Cas wasn't very relaxed when they first met him.

"The messenger for Jesus's birth was Gabriel," Cas begins to lecture, frowning hard enough to stop Dean mid-eye roll. "That figure does not represent an archangel. Archangels are fearsome warriors. They lead God's armies. And why would Gabriel come to announce the birth of the Messiah armed only with a harp? How could he have protected him that way? _Hrumph_ , I suspect this must be based on a poor translation of the event."

Dean bites the inside of his mouth, and nods, trying to look suitably solemn.

Sam joins them, "What are we looking at? Cursed object?

"Tree topper." His brother says. "Not cursed, yet, but Cas is offended by it, so give him a minute…" The elder Winchester raises his eyebrows in question to Sam. Sam wipes his mouth to hide the smile that is creeping onto his face, but not fast enough. When he looks over at Castiel, Sam finds the electric blue eyes locked on him like drone missiles.

"Does this amuse you, Sam? Would it if it were your brother so misrepresented?"

The younger Winchester gets a delighted look on his face. "My badass brother in a white gown, with flowing curls and a harp, impaled on an evergreen? Hell yes, Cas. Just picturing it makes me laugh."

Dean abruptly grabs the snacks in Sam's basket and adds them to his own, gruffly asks someone to get him a cup of coffee, while he pays, and then they can meet at the car. Mostly though, he's just getting them moving again before he cracks up at the look on Cas's face.

 _A Christan angel on top of a pagan tree. Hell, Gabriel probably invented it_ , Dean smirks.

****

The drive from Whitefish, Montana, to St. George, Utah, is 950 miles of snow-covered treacherous mountain-lined roads. While the scenery is beautiful, the drive itself is tedious, and Dean has insisted on staying behind the wheel.

Castiel is regulated to the back seat of the Impala, but is sitting on the edge of the seat with his head almost in the front seat. "When do I get to drive again, Dean, or when does Sam? Why do you get to make the decision about who is driving?"

"Yeah, Dean, why do you get to make all the decisions," Sam asks, fanning the fires because, damn, if he isn't amused by watching these two bicker sometimes. _Gotta do something to pass the time_.

"I get to decide because I'm older," Dean snaps at Sam.

"That is a singularly interesting assertion," the fallen angel says. "By my calculations, I have been alive thousands of years. My brother Gabriel told me not to step on the little grey fish that crawled ashore – that our father had plans for it. So, I think I get to say I'm older."

It's Dean's turn to make a throat-clearing noise. "Nope, Cas, you don't get to claim all those years. You're human now and you are still learning that. Hell, Cas, look at all the basic human stuff we've had to teach you. By my calculations, you're about six months old." Sam mutters something about pedophiles, but Dean can't reach him to get a hard hit in.

Castiel hears this estimate of six months – an infant - and it reminds him of a previous insult – _baby in a trench coat_. He hadn't appreciated it the first time, and he decides not to let Dean get away with it now.

"Basic 'human stuff' like lying, lockpicking, and credit card theft? No, Dean, if we are going on physical body, I believe I am still older than you. This vessel, Jimmy Novak, is almost five years older than you." Castiel seems to be looking for a fight because his tone is pretty caustic.

Dean just snorts. "I spent 40 years in hell. Add that in there and I should be getting senior discounts."

Sam jumps back in. "I spent longer in hell. So, little brother," he smirks at Dean using his hand to demonstrate that he means that in height as well, "Looks like you should pull over and let me drive."

"I besieged Hell all the years you were there, Dean. And Sam, I had to bring you back from Hell as well. I have as much time in hell as both of you. I am clearly the oldest."

The Winchesters veto that idea again. Castiel is too new in his humanity to claim to be senior. Cas doesn't get to count non-angel time - but they decide he gets to count time ever since he inhabited Jimmy, his first vessel. Dean says he thinks that make's Cas's birthday Sept. 18, 2009.

"You are too illogical to argue with," Cas says in a huff; he pushes himself back into the seat with his arms folding in front of him. Sulking. Dean and Sam exchange looks.

"You sulking, Cas? Cause I'll tell you who sulks, babies," Dean needles him with a cocky grin.

Cas glares at him. "I am not sulking. I'm just not arguing with you anymore. Besides, I've seen you sulk plenty of times.

"I don't sulk, I brood. It's more manly," Dean fires back.

Sam, however, is not finished. "So Dean, did I hear you argue that time in Hell counts toward age? 'Cause, bro, that makes me your older brother now." A satisfied smirk crosses he face as he needles his brother. "Thank God. I've been being bossed around by the two of you for months now. Glad to have that settled."

"No way, Sammy. Nope. Just doesn't work that way. You are my baby brother - and you always will be." Dean shoots Sam a challenging look. "And I can prove it."

"How's that Dean? How can you prove it?"

Dean snorts. "I changed your diapers." He licks his finger and puts that one in the win column.

****

Castiel is shifting around in the back seat again. Hours later and Dean still won't let anyone else drive. Though he doesn't like to say it, Dean feels like he gets to protect Sam and Cas at the same time when he is driving with them in his baby, a steel behemoth. It's times like this that he worries the least.

"Can I at least get a turn up front?" Cas whines from the back. "I want to sit next to Dean."

Sam rolls his eyes. Watching his brother and his brother's angel settle into their relationship has been an interesting half of year. "Nope, this is my seat," Sam's laughing, but he's not joking. "My legs don't fit as well in the back."

"Well how about if we all sit in the front," Castiel suggests. "I'll sit in the middle."

Dean and Sam explain that that's not a great idea. It would look strange. Besides, Sam says having Cas practically sitting in his lap would distract Dean from driving. Dean smiles, says gruffly that it probably would. But not much farther down the road, Dean pulls over and hands Sammy the keys.

Dean had figured it out. Sam can drive, and Dean will sit in the back with Cas. Dean said Sam could do it without complaining or they'd wait here until Bobby caught up and Sam can go ride with Bobby in the truck. As Sam pulls back into the sparse traffic. He throws his brother another stern expression and practices his older brother voice. "You two keep it rated PG back there."


End file.
